Earth.
The White House conference room in the United States.
Morton stood there, stunned, clearly still reeling from the "shocking" news.
"The...the return capsule has malfunctioned?"
His expression twisted in pain as he grabbed the collar of the staff member in front of him and roared, "What on earth happened?!"
Faced with Morton's menacing expression, the staff member stammered an explanation.
"Director Morton, I heard from Houston that it seems the engine's hydraulic system exceeded the preset limit during ignition, and the Mars module's main control computer automatically shut down the engine according to the preset program."
Morton's expression suddenly froze.
this……
Even though he knew nothing about Mars return capsules, he knew that this thing was not so easy to solve.
"Can it be resolved?" Morton took a few deep breaths to calm himself down.
The staff member remained silent for a moment, then slowly shook his head.
"Excuse me, sir."
"They said in Houston that there is basically no possibility of remote repair."
Seemingly fearing that Morton might not believe it, the staff member added again, "These are Professor Chris's exact words."
Morton stared blankly at the staff member in front of him.
a long time.
He loosened his hands, turned around dejectedly, and returned to his seat.
The atmosphere in the meeting room grew increasingly somber.
After a silence that lasted for several seconds, Albert, sitting in the head seat, coughed softly, breaking the deathly stillness of the conference room.
"Everyone, we need to change the topic of our discussion now."
"United States, should we launch a rescue mission for the three astronauts?"
The moment the words were spoken, everyone present began to breathe more rapidly.
Everyone at the meeting looked at each other expectantly, hoping someone would take the lead and say something.
Albert frowned slightly at the lack of response and directly called out Morton's name.
"Morton, as the NASA administrator, these three astronauts are your subordinates. Tell me, should we rescue them?"
Morton's pupils contracted slightly.
This is not a good question to answer.
Rescue means a large amount of material and human resources.
Either way, the United States is finding it difficult to afford either one.
Should we not save them?
Those are three lives!
Leaving aside the long-term impact, at the most basic level, will NASA astronauts dare to carry out missions in the future?
A hint of hesitation flashed in Morton's eyes: "Your Excellency, President."
He slowly lowered his head and said in a low voice, "I believe the United States needs to implement a rescue operation."
"They are American heroes, and we cannot let them down!"
"Since the founding of the United States, we have never abandoned our citizens!"
After he finished speaking, the meeting room fell silent once again.
"Da...da...da..."
Albert tapped lightly on the conference table in front of him with his slightly large fingers.
Morton subconsciously looked up and glanced at Albert's face.
Seeing Albert's furrowed brow, Morton's heart skipped a beat!
broken.
As expected.
The next second, Albert sighed deeply, a look of helplessness on his face: "Morton, I know what you mean."
"However, it would take at least a year to build another spacecraft capable of going to Mars to carry out a rescue mission."
"Those three astronauts won't last until we come to rescue them, so..."
"Your Excellency, Mr. President!" Morton interrupted Albert, "We can ask the Xia Kingdom for help!"
"Currently, Xia Kingdom's Mystic Maiden No. 2 is only a thousand meters away from them. As long as we..."
A hint of anger flashed in Albert's eyes.
He shouted sternly, "Morton!"
"The United States will never ask the Xia Kingdom for help!"
"Unless I step down, this is out of the question!"
...
The meeting ended unhappily.
The final result, naturally, was to abandon the rescue plan.
In other words, those three astronauts became the real expendable pawns.
As for domestic public opinion, Albert has already issued orders to block all channels for the dissemination of this news.
As Morton walked toward his office, a hint of reluctance flashed in his eyes.
He still remembered what Andrew said when he came to NASA for training.
"Andrew, why did you join the Pathfinder program? Was it for the money?"
“That’s right, sir. You may not understand the lives of people like us.” The bitter expression on Andrew’s face when he said this was deeply etched in his heart. “This reward of five hundred thousand US dollars can provide my children and wife with a safe and stable living environment.”
"Have you ever thought about the possibility that you might not be able to come back?"
“…” Andrew was silent for a moment, his smile growing increasingly bitter. “If he can’t come back, he can’t come back. But… sir, could the compensation be a little more?”
Not only Andrew, but also Bruno and Joey expressed similar sentiments.
Scenes flashed through Morton's mind.
He clenched his teeth hard, a glint of madness flashing in his eyes!
...
Houston Ground Command Center.
A cell phone ringing startled Professor Chris awake.
Because of the Pathfinder incident, he didn't get a full night's sleep.
He rubbed his slightly swollen eyes and took his phone out of his pocket.
Morton?
Upon seeing the name displayed on his phone screen, Professor Chris's spirits lifted.
He quickly pressed the answer button: "Chief, rescue plan..."
Morton's voice, filled with gritted teeth, came from the other end of the phone: "Professor, they've given up!"
Professor Chris's breath hitched, and he instinctively asked, "Give up? Give up what?"
"President, the rescue plan is abandoned!" Morton said, enunciating each word clearly, "and we are forbidden from seeking help from Xia Kingdom!"
The moment Chris heard Morton's words, he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him.
He plopped back into his chair and muttered to himself.
"How...how could this happen..."
"This...this is murder!"
Professor Chris's shrill voice came through the phone to Morton's ears: "I'm going to expose this to the media!"
"...Professor, the president has ordered a complete blockade of all information channels. You know what that means, right?"
Chris's face was deathly pale.
He covered his eyes with his hands, and said with a slight sob, "But, but they're still waiting for me to provide them with a solution..."
"I'm sorry, I can't do it, I can't tell them this..."
A tear slowly slid down his cheek.
The microphone was completely silent, with only a faint hissing background noise remaining.
"professor."
Morton took a deep breath. "I need your help."
"I have a plan..."
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